I try unsuccessfully to cover my mouth to hold in my giggles. It was funny. I never understood why Laeten was dating that woman anyway. They were the worst match in the history of the world. She was some dumb blonde bimbo with fake hair and boobs, not to mention Leila is right about the tan. I mean, she was orange.
He’s so smart and artsy. Any woman would be lucky to date him. Though he never dates anyone he should…
Laeten sees me giggling and smirks as he nods in acceptance. “Ok, yeah, it was funny. But, it was still mean. You’re horrible to the women I date, Leila. You never like any of them. You always manage to find something or another wrong with them.”
Leila crosses her arms over her chest and huffs at her brother. “Well, that’s because something is wrong with them and you’re too good for them. I’m not the one shagging them. I don’t give a hoot how great of a lay they are. You date dumb ass Barbie bitches with cantaloupes on their chests. You have nothing in common with them other than the fact that they all look exactly the same and have the IQ of a gnat. If they can wake up your nether regions, you’re game.
“You’ve always dated down. Never once have you dated anyone of quality. If they don’t look like they could be the centerfold in Playboy, you aren’t interested. Dumb ass hoes, the lot of them.
“Am I right, Rea?”
Both of them look at me. Leila wanting me to back her up and Laeten waiting for my response to his sister’s bluntness. I cough and try to appease them both. This is a seriously old argument and neither of them will give an inch. “Um, well… It doesn’t really matter. Laeten is an adult and he can date whoever he wants…”
She’s so right though. He’s so smart and artistic. Yet, he dates the dumbest, shallowest women on the planet. And they DO all look the same. I doubt I could tell them apart if I had to.
Leila raises her brow at me and snorts again. “Oh, please. Tell the truth, Rea. He dates the completely wrong women! He goes for the casting couch, arm candy when he needs to be dating a woman with a damn brain. Hell, even half a brain is better than the idiots you find, Laeten. Everyone you ever date looks like they’d want to live with Hugh Heffner. You know what I’m saying?!
She points at him again. “Where do you find them? Do you have a dating profile or something that says, ‘Only dumb chicks with big tits need apply’?” If he were closer and not across the table, I’d be scared she’s stab him with her fork the way she’s gesturing to emphasize her point. “Why do you think it never lasts, brother dear?
“I’ll answer that one for you. Because no matter how happy your dick is, eventually you’re bored with the airheads.” She laughs. “Most people need at least some sort of mental stimulation to get their juices flowing. I mean, a cherry red mouth around your dick or airhead moans can only work for so long...”
Laeten groans. “Ok, stop it.” His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “The fact that my sister just said something about my dick makes me want to vomit.”
Leila sits up straight and nods as she laughs. “You should just let me find you a woman. I’d have you dating Rea.”
Both Laeten and I look at each other in shock and alarm. I shake my head. “Um, no way…”
Laeten grunts, “That’d be equivalent to me dating you, Leila. Rea is just like a sister. I love her, but that’s gross. Almost as gross as you talking about my manhood!” He grimace as he looks at me, “Sorry, Rea.”
I mutter, “No worries. I agree with you on that!”
Me date Laeten… Oh my, God. No way. He’s right. That’s like borderline incest.
Too bad I never felt that way about Luka… While Laeten inspires feelings of sibling love and affection, Luka has always caused a much different reaction. Much, much different.
I haven’t heard anything from him in a long time. It’s been over a year since we last communicated. I know that he’s busy and his job is top secret, but I still like to know he’s ok. For a while after he left, he’d check in pretty regularly. We even exchanged a few letters. Just normal stuff. What he was doing and seeing; women he was meeting in his travels. What was happening with me?!
But then, he was accepted to the Marine Corps Forces Special Operations Command and was focused on making the Raiders. He was so excited and I was excited for him. But also worried.
Months and months went by and then I heard he made the Raiders from Leila. He didn’t even tell me himself.
I reached out, but a year went by with no response, so I stopped expecting to hear from him at all.
I now get my info from Leila though I always try to make it seem as if I’m not fishing.
Should I ask his siblings if they’ve heard anything lately?
No, Rea, you shouldn’t. Besides… if he wanted me to know anything about him, he’d tell me himself.
Luka isn’t my concern.
He never really was…
Leila laughs again and I struggle to pay attention and catch up to the conversation.
Shit! I’m not even remotely paying attention to them.
What did I miss?
“Rea is taken anyway. She and Doctor Dreamboat are doing great. Right, Rea?”
What? Taken? Why are they talking about me?
Oh, yes. Clive.
Yes, of course we are.
Clive is perfect. Totally perfect.
I nod. “We are. Things are going really well for us. He’s great.”
Leila sighs, “You’re a lucky bitch. If you weren’t my best friend, I’d hate you, you know. I saw him first and he’s just so perfect… Ah.”
Laeten just looks at me. His green eyes crinkle at the corners as he concentrates, but he says nothing. He always does that when he’s trying to read me.
I smile at them both and shake off any lingering thoughts of Luka. There’s no point. “Speaking of Clive, I need to pick a place for dinner. He says I have to pick the place tonight.
“Any suggestions?”
We chat about it a bit more and then my cell phone alarm goes off. Glancing down at it, I see that it’s time to go. I turn it off. “Well, I need to wrap this up. The clinic is jam packed this afternoon and we need to head back.”
Laeten stands and pulls my chair out. Pulling me to him, he hugs me tightly before letting me go. Leila asks where her hug is and he jokes with her before giving her one and grabbing the check as she reaches for it, saying he’s got it. We both thank him and head back to work to jump back into the day with Laeten’s promise that he’ll be around more.
Chapter Four
Luka
The noise… and the pain.
Oh, God. It’s so loud.
My head is ringing and my entire body is convulsing with unimaginable pain.
How is it humanly possible for a mortal to experience such pain and not die?!
So many voices.
What are they saying? Who is talking? Where I am? What happened?
I can’t breathe. Why can’t I breathe?
I hear bits and pieces of frantic conversation though I can’t concentrate on anything. Liquid warmth flows through my arm and drowns out the fire covering my entire body. I start to get woozy. My head rolls and I see Bones, our medic, at my side. Before I can ask him why he looks so worried, the blackness welcomes me again.
My eyes struggle to open and it takes me what seems like several minutes to focus. When I can see, everything is hazy. A bright white light is directly above me. It’s surrounded by a stark white ceiling.
What the hell? Where am I?
What the hell happened?
I hear the clanging of metal on metal and the beeping of lots of machines. It smells like bleach. Soft voices merge with the other sounds and smells and I slowly realize I’m hearing the sounds of a hospital.
A hospital?
My head turns ever so slightly and pain blankets me at the movement. Closing my eye and trying to steady my breathing, I realize that my breath is labored and my throat feels funny. Opening my eyes, I squint through the bright light.
>
Are they trying to signal space from in here? Jesus. Why is it so bright?!
Through the pencil slits of my eyes, I see a tall IV pole with tubing attached to a bag. My eyes slowly follow the tube down and I see that it’s connected to an arm… my arm.
My arm? I’m the patient?
Why am I in the hospital?
Angling my head, I close my eyes as nausea threatens to choke me. Squeezing my eyes tightly shut, I slowly open them and with great effort, I look down at myself. I see white stark sheets, consistent with every hospital I’ve ever seen, in real life and on television, on the bed.
Why is my memory so hazy? I can’t recall why I’m in the hospital…
I feel like there’s something important I need to remember, but my brain is so fuzzy. I can see the sheets on the bed and the tubing attached to my arm, but I’m looking through everything as if I’m in a bubble. I can see it. I know it’s there; but, I don’t know why. Nothing is clear.
I’m trying so hard to concentrate and pop the bubble. If it would just pop, I could see clearly and I’d know just what the hell is going on.
Someone has to be here… I hear people though their voices are faint.
Where’s a damn nurse? A doctor? Anyone really?
I can’t lift my head. All I can do is roll it and search the room with my straining eyes. I feel as if I’ve been on a bender. I’m about to puke. Concentrating really hard, I try to force myself to regain the strength to move… to sit up… hell, to lift my damn head.
A slight sound to my right gets my attention. Moving my eyes delicately, I see a pretty young nurse standing at my bedside, checking the fluid bag attached to my IV. She must sense my slight movement because she quickly looks at me and jumps with a start. Her eyes meet mine and she gasps, “Oh, you’re awake.” Her voice is fluid… and foreign.
I nod. Or, I think I do. I try to swallow and open my mouth. No sound comes out. Trying again, I manage to rasp. “W……ater.”
She nods and says, “Of course. I will get that for you. I am sure you’re parched. I will be back in just a brief moment.”
She leaves. I lean back against the hard pillow and try to keep my eyes open. I hear her return a short time later. Turning my head again, I see her approach the bed with a cup with a straw in it and a pitcher. The cup rattles as she sets it down and I hear the sound of crushed ice. Tipping the ugly green pitcher, she pours a small amount of water into the cup before slowly lifting it to my mouth while she murmurs softly, “Small sips. Do not take too much. Just enough to wet your throat. Too much at once will do more harm than good.”
Taking her advice, I swallow a small amount of the cold water. She’s right. It hurts and I cough, which hurts even more. Gasping, I fall back against the pillow and try once again to speak. “Wh––what happened… to… me?”
Her eyes widen and she says calmly. “You were injured… Let me find the doctor…”
Before I can say anything else, she quickly sets the cup on a bedside table. I can barely make it out it’s so blurry and she leaves the room.
Obviously I’m injured. I’m in the damn hospital and I’m hooked up to machines and lying in a bed.
How was I injured?
Closing my eyes, I try to recall what happened.
I struggle to remember something… anything.
Dammit. Why is this so hard?
I remember readying my equipment for the mission. I remember the smell of goats, hay, and sweat. I remember adrenaline as we breached the building. I remember looking at Culkin as we entered a hallway that was empty… and then another hallway. It was empty, too. Then, we went into a room…
My memory freezes.
There’s something else… something important.
Concentrating with all my might, I will my thoughts to formulize.
Dammit! Why is this so hard?!
My eyes fly open and I gasp as everything comes back to me. My brain struggles to keep up as information is overloaded. I can’t breathe.
Oh, God.
The target… the sound… the grenade… yelling at Culkin to take cover… and then…
The pain.
Oh God, the pain.
The fire… I was on fire.
Was I on fire?
Oh, God.
And what about Culkin?!
I need to reach my body. I need to check myself for my injuries.
I was injured, yes. I remember pain. So much pain.
How badly was in injured?
If I could just reach my body. My hands won’t move. It’s as if they’re glued to the bed.
Am I restrained?
I try to look down at my hand, but my head won’t cooperate.
Dammit, my head is connected to my neck and all my neck needs to do is move so my head angles down.
Why can’t I move?
I can’t really feel anything.
Am I paralyzed?
Oh God. I can’t be paralyzed.
I’m having a panic attack. I can’t breathe.
The nurse comes back in, followed by a doctor in a white coat. He smiles at me but his smile fades as he sees me on the bed.
“You must calm down. Breathe. One breath in. One out. Do it with me. You must calm down.” He stares at me, willing me to listen to him. Finally, I am able to control my breathing and I look at him. He smiles slightly.
Don’t smile at me. Tell me what happened to me, dammit!
I snap harshly, though my words are broken and my breathing is still very labored. “Wh… what… hap… happen…ed… to… me?”
The doctor only looks at me. His eyes search mine and then he sighs. “You were injured. During a mission… an explosive detonated and you were in its path… You have serious injuries.”
Serious injuries?
Dear God, I AM paralyzed.
My eyes flash and my words are surprisingly clear as I rasp, “How serious?”
The nurse looks nervous as she looks over me, lying on the bed. She looks from my chin down the bed and then back at the doctor without meeting my eyes.
Women always meet my eyes.
He says calmly while ignoring my question, “You must rest for now.”
“No!” My voice is loud, louder than I expected. I startle myself. With great effort, I shake my head, or I think I do. “Tell me… How…ser––seri… ous?”
He sighs again and closes his fingers over the clipboard he’s holding. It seems like forever before he speaks. Finally he says, “Serious. You were directly in the blast zone. Your body absorbed much of the impact. You have some serious burns on your left leg, both thighs, and your right arm. Some internal injuries… Your ribs punctured your lung... And…”
He stops.
My lung was punctured?
And I have burns across my body?
That’s not enough!? And what?
I snap as harshly as I can in my present state. “A..n…d –– what?”
He looks at me. I can see in his eyes that I don’t want to hear whatever he’s about to say.
It’s bad. It’s really bad.
He sighs and says, “And… we were unable to save your right leg…”
Huh?
Unable to save my leg? What?
I don’t have a leg?
They removed my leg?
I’m all fucked up…
My leg is gone? No, that’s not right. It can’t be.
I can feel my leg. If I concentrate really hard, I know I can feel my leg. It’s there. He didn’t take anything.
This is a nightmare. I’m having a nightmare.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I concentrate with all my might to feel, ignoring the pain. Ignoring the fact that I’m about to lose consciousness. My chest hurts. Probably from my punctured lung. My stomach feels as if someone is pulling at my sides and trying to rip me apart. My hips…
Dear, lord. This is excruciating.
My thighs… I can feel them. They hurt. They hurt so badly. I can’t feel anything else.
Dammit, concentrate Luka.
I can’t… I can’t feel anything beneath my thighs. I scream out in pain and rage.
This is bullshit!
My bed slowly raises. Opening my eyes wide, I look down. I don’t want to, but I have to. My breathing stalls in my chest and I feel like my heart is being squeezed by a vice. I try to take stock of what it is I’m seeing.
My eyes widen and then close before opening again.
That cannot be right.
My thighs are wrapped in gauze. Both of them, as is my left leg. From my left hip to my shin is one massive gauze. It’s so white. Everything is white. My toes are visible. They aren’t white. They’re bruised and they are ugly. But on the right side… on my right side, beneath my gauze wrapped thigh… there’s nothing there… It’s a stub. My leg is gone… the bed is empty.
My leg is gone. The thigh is wrapped in thick gauze and then it just stops…
My leg is gone. They took my leg… My career is over. Everything I’ve worked for… it’s over.
This cannot be happening.
This isn’t happening. No way this is real.
Only as I once again stare at the empty spot in the bed, where my leg is supposed to be, the harsh reality sucker punches me…
My leg is gone.
My military career is gone.
It’s over…
My life is over…
Unable to hold my head up any longer, I fall back against the bed and welcome the pain that brings back the darkness.
Chapter Five
Rea
Two weeks later
I’m once again sitting in my office at the clinic, staring blankly at a screen, trying desperately to concentrate on what I know I need to be doing. These charts need to be entered into the ancient computer. The clinic closed about an hour ago and most of the staff left soon after. I stayed behind, as I often do, to organize and enter the data from the patient charts.
Help Our Heroes: A Military Charity Anthology Page 45